


"Is that my shirt?"

by Aidaran, StarTravel



Series: Garashir ficlets and drabbles [6]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Clothes Stealing, Domestic Fluff, Ficlet, Fluff, Funny, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 10:30:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19904266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aidaran/pseuds/Aidaran, https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarTravel/pseuds/StarTravel
Summary: Clearly, Julian should have lent Garak some novels talking about certain aspects of human flirting.





	"Is that my shirt?"

Julian finishes showering and just walks with a towel around his waist the first time he stays at Garak's quarters, looking for something particular he'd wanted to wear for the longest time. He thinks he'd look nice in Garak's shirt, and certainly, he's looking forward to feeling the soft fabric and the alien smell around him.

He slides it over his shoulders and lets it hang down. He's sure he looks sexy, he knows Garak is going to be enchanted when he wakes up. 

Julian replicates them tea and waits by his side on the bed.

Garak wakes up, a cranky lizard if you'd ever seen one. Things only get worse when he sees Julian is only dressed in his shirt, that looks like an old bag on him.

Not even underwear, to his utter horror. What is this human doing?

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

“Yes I am.” Julian answers with a slow smile as he leans toward Garak, the shirt sliding down his shoulder.

"... Why?"

“Because I wanted to look attractive for you.”

"But it is too big for you." He cocks his head to the side like a bird.

“Well, yes. That’s what makes it sexy.” Julian says flatly, starting to feel a bit embarrassed. He sometimes forget certain things don't seem to be that obvious for Garak.

"Oh. I'm not sure I understand, I'd rather have you out of it and here, dear." Is it some human custom he's not aware of?

Julian huffs a bit and shakes his head.

“No, see, you’re supposed to find it enticing that you can see my shoulder peeking out and that I’m wearing your clothes because well - I suppose, because it means I’m yours.” Now that he thinks about it, it doesn't make that much sense as it did in his head. And Garak is still giving him a very serious look. 

"This is a very complicated ritual, but I'll do my best. Should I wear your clothes then?" He eyes at Julian's discarded shirt, wondering how he'll be able to fit there.

“I - well. It’s usually, umm. The ... only one partner who does it.”

"Oh, I see. So the other part just has to look and feel aroused?"

“Well. Yes.”

"A bit of a passive role. I feel like I should do more, like preparing you your breakfast, or maybe carrying you back here. Are you completely sure I only have to look?"

“Well, I wouldn’t object to the carrying me.”

Garak does that, depositing him on the table and bringing the breakfast there. He still looks a bit confused.

"Now what's the next step, dear?"

Julian is just about ready to storm out of Garak’s quarters altogether.

“We have breakfast or we go back to bed because you’re overwhelmed by passion for me. Whatever suits you best.” His tone is icy, and Garak really has no clue what he's doing wrong.

"Well, breakfast is already here, so I'd suggest we first do that. I don't want tea stains on my sheets."

“All right. I suppose that’s fair.” Julian pouts though. He did give him a choice after all.

"Is there something wrong, dear?" He sips his tea, wondering if he got it wrong with this ritual. It all seems so weird. And unnecessary. So unlike cardassian ones, clear and staged.

“You don’t seem, well. Interested.”

"I am. I am just trying to figure the steps of this so I don't make a mistake. None of your books talked about a situation like this so I don't have the information about how to proceed."

Julian is just one step from throwing his scones at his face. He's almost shouting when he answers.

“You’re supposed to be interested in me and telling me how you think I look in your shirt and that's all! It's not a damn ritual, Elim!”

"Oh, and that's all? Don't you want to finish the breakfast first?"

“No, I want you to tell me how you think I look.” Now he does border on shouting, frustration coloring his every word.

Garak resigns himself to not be able to finish his tea, so he strokes Julian's bare shoulder with his finger. These humans are so weird and sensitive sometimes.

"I think you look a lot more enticing than this breakfast, and I'd like to peel off that shirt you are wearing right now."

Julian smiles brightly at him, leaning in to the touch. Finally. 

“Then you should go ahead and try.”

Garak ends his tea, puts the trail on his nightstand and then finally proceeds to do so.

Julian grins and leans up and kisses him, though he does let out a sheepish laugh when they break apart. 

“I take it this isn’t what you’d prefer to see me in?”

"I'm still not sure how watching you wear my shirt would beat watching you wear nothing at all."

“Well, it’s ... I’m not sure either, but they do it in novels all the time.”

"You certainly didn't give me those novels." He takes off his shirt and kisses him again.

“My mistake.” Julian sighs into the kiss. Now that he thinks about it, that's true. Certainly he could have educated his lizard in XX century romance a bit better. Or tried to figure out which human customs might not translate to Cardassian tastes. 

"No harm done." Garak pushes Julian down with him, already tugging on the bottom of the shirt.

“No, I think we got to the same place in the end.”

Garak pulls the shirt up over his arms, gaze just a touch too concerned to be entirely faked. 

"Can we get you something better fitting to wear, then?"

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love!


End file.
